


two quadrants one night

by dave_peta



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Other, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 13:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18012194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dave_peta/pseuds/dave_peta
Summary: Your name is Sam Kalal. After a long day, you get yourself dressed in your pajamas and sit in your bed, prepared to dick around on the internet until you pass out. You get pretty close, until you're contacted by one of your good friends, Jake. He seems to want to talk.





	two quadrants one night

**Author's Note:**

> aaaa this is very self-indulgent dont mind me  
> also if jake is ooc dont blame me, i copied that from an rp and i dont have the patience to go through and change it
> 
> sorry about the chat colors and font but, i dont know how to change that and im on mobile so just *shoves this at you, runs away*
> 
> (psst its pasted from https://docs.google.com/document/d/1xTWz46kiwqzn5Xfs16IOM-HMI6CJVLcwxouMAhuASRQ/edit?usp=drivesdk here if u wanna read it with color)

**\-- golgothasTerror** **[GT]** **started pestering namelessMonster** **[NM]** **at 22:01 --**

 

**GT: Hello.**

**GT: Erm.**

**GT: How are you this fine evening.**

**NM: i'm fine, i guess??**

**GT: You guess?**

**NM** **: ah, yeah, i had a p fucky dream**

**NM: but in a weird way**

**NM: it's been distracting me all day**

**GT: Fucky?**

**NM: yeah so**

**NM: well**

**GT: Care to elaborate friend?**

**NM: yeah**

**NM: it was basically my life but evthing was better**

**NM: you know??**

**NM: my monitor had speakers, my chest was flatter, my old friends started talking to me again**

**NM: and when i woke up, i realized it was a dream**

**NM: and now i've just been kinda.. sad**

**GT: I’m not exactly sure how to go about this, chum but... in a sense i understand.**

**GT: It is a sense of loss.**

**GT: Yes?**

**NM: yeah**

**GT: Right, then i do understand. There are things that you have seen that could have been.**

**GT: But...**

**GT: Right, anyhow. Is there anything i could do for you?**

**GT: I think trolls would call this a ‘feels jam’ but i’m here if you wish to talk.**

**NM: no, jake, were you gonna say smth?**

**GT: More like i was going to blubber the night through trying to show you a pal is on the other end here.**

**GT: Um, and also that you can be assured you’re not alone?**

**NM: that's r sweet**

**NM: i know i'm not alone, but sometimes i do need that encouragement**

**NM: it's like i had a dream where i looked into a universe where my life was perfect**

**NM: but you know what**

**NM: you weren't there**

**NM: so i think i'm better here**

**GT: A perfect life would be rather boring as well.**

**GT: Oh.**

**GT: That’s...**

**GT: Really kind of you.**

**GT: I’m glad to be desired in your version of the life you have been given.**

**GT: Probably more than i really should have any right to be glad.**

**NM: what're you on about**

**NM: you have ev right to be happy**

**GT: Just rambling i suppose.**

**GT: I didn’t mean it like that.**

**GT: Just-**

**GT: I’m.**

**GT: Hm.**

**GT: I suppose it’s just a deeper reason to my gladness to your words? It’s a feeling i don’t exactly know.**

**GT: It made me feel fuzzy?**

**GT: If that makes a lick of sense.**

**NM: are we still trying to quantify our relationship in troll terms?**

**NM: because they may call that pale**

**GT: Is...**

**GT: Is that what this is?**

**GT: Platonic boyfriend jazz?**

**NM: well, i don't know**

**NM: i can't speak for you**

**GT: Well...**

**GT: Is it pale for you?**

**GT: Maybe you can tell me how it feels and i’ll confirm or debunk?**

**NM: it makes me r happy to talk to you**

**NM: and i can always count on you to say the right thing**

**NM: but you know just as well as me that my head isn't wired to think romantically automatically**

**NM: so**

**NM: i might not be the best person to bounce this off of**

**GT: Your feelings are still completely valid.**

**GT: I have always been rather... dense toward feelings.**

**GT: So i guess we’re in the same boat.**

**GT: I’m getting ahead of myself.**

**GT: Um, so far it sure seems that this is rather pale and i have no problem with that because.**

**GT: Well.**

**GT: You’re rather extraordinary?**

**NM: aww**

**GT: In a sense you are my shoulder and a bit of a firm fist to me when i’m being a blast dolt?**

**NM: haha yeah**

**GT: Yeah.**

**NM: you get yourself into a lot of weird situations**

**NM: it's funny watching you bumble around**

**GT: Life of adventure is unpredictable.**

**GT: That’s the fun of it!**

**GT: Bumble around, geez.**

**GT: I’m not that much of an aloof character am i?**

**NM: that's not what aloof means**

**GT: I-**

**GT: Um.**

**NM: hahaha! don't mind me**

**GT: Minding.**

**NM: you are generally sturdy on your feet, yeah**

**NM: i'm just talking about your uh, social and mental escapades**

**GT: What do you mean?**

**NM: watching you dance around your relationships w/ your friends can be a little funny when what they're trying to say is obvious even to me**

**NM: also sometimes you talk to yourself. did you notice that?**

**GT: No i did not...**

**GT: I suppose i am still working on being able to juggle the complexities of relationships...**

**GT: It’s just so frustrating.**

**NM: mood**

**NM: anyway**

**NM: when you're confused, people don't mind when you ask for clarification**

**NM: the phrase "can you rephrase that" is polite and to the point**

**GT: They most certainly do at times!**

**GT: You should have seen the last round about me and dirk had because i couldn’t catch the blasted hint he wanted to go on a date.**

**NM: oh, dirk's a special case**

**NM: he dances around you too**

**GT: Down right tango.**

**GT: And janey gets rather frustrated with me.**

**GT: Anyways!!!**

**GT: Sorry. This was about you.**

**GT: I didn’t mean to flip it to myself.**

**NM: no, it's fine!**

**NM: i'm always here to talk**

**GT: Ditto.**

**NM: we kinda already figured out what was up w/ me**

**GT: Still...**

**GT: Are you sure?**

**NM: i'm sure**

**NM: i'm a little curious to find out who you think you're talking to when you're alone**

**GT: Um.**

**GT: That’s.**

**GT: A rather complex and complicated explanation of shenanigans.**

**NM: whittle it down to three words for me**

**GT: Brain ghost dirk.**

**GT: BGD.**

**NM: brain ghost dirk?**

**GT: See!**

**GT: Okay...**

**GT: So.**

**GT: Um,**

**GT: Basically, my hope powers combined with forks and created a splinter of dirks psych and it lodged into my soul and when my hope powers activate or i... he will fork into existence.**

**GT: He’s...**

**GT: There?**

**GT: Like, he is still dirk but he’s also...me?**

**GT: He is the same dirk who dirk was when the splinter split from the rest.**

**GT: And sometimes voices the thoughts i have so i can hash it out myself.**

**GT: Does that make sense?**

**NM: yes, it does**

**NM: you have a v complicated brain, jake**

**NM: and i think you're a lot smarter than you let on**

**NM: you explained that r well**

**NM: but why can't you get through a conversation?**

**GT: Because it gets all jumbled with everything else.**

**GT: Also. Debatable on the above.**

**GT: Anywho. Um.**

**GT: It is rather complicated but the younger lalonde said it was ...like anxiety?**

**GT: Whatever the fuck that is.**

**NM: oh that fucker**

**NM: not rose**

**GT: Where i think far too fast for me to be able to process all of it!**

**GT: What?**

**NM: anxiety is a little fucker**

**GT: Um.**

**GT: I wasn’t aware anxiety was a person.**

**NM: it's not**

**GT: Oh.**

**GT: Then...**

**GT: I’m afraid you have officially lost me.**

**NM: i personify it to cope**

**NM: it's a chemical imbalance in your brain**

**NM: makes you think different**

**NM: there are lots of different kinds of anxiety**

**NM: i have panic disorder**

**NM: you probably have social anxiety**

**GT: Social anxiety?**

**GT: That sounds very odd.**

**NM: it means your head starts to race when you're in social situations**

**NM: means you get nervous when you talk to people, more than you should**

**GT: Oh**

**GT: Oh.**

**GT: ...**

**GT: Hm. That’s... that explains quite a bit.**

**GT: I think.**

**NM: i hope you're okay**

**GT: It’s a bit much to take in yes but i’m alright i promise!**

**GT: BGD helps me sort through my thoughts so i’m not as confused or do something drastically dumb.**

**GT: Like run away from the problem till it up and disappear into space or something!**

**NM: yeah, that's not how you should deal w/ things**

**NM: ...**

**NM: what does BGD think about me?**

**GT: BGD?**

**GT: Well, he...**

**GT: He thinks the world of you i think? He always likes to quote your encouragements when i get a little rattled with the way things are turning out in other situations.**

**GT: Or rather he admires you.**

**NM: hm**

**GT: Hm?**

**NM: nothing, i was being stupid**

**GT: Was that too honest..?**

**NM: no, no it's fine.**

**NM: i was...**

**NM: well, i shouldn't use you as a pipeline to see what dirk thinks of me**

**NM: because you aren't dirk**

**NM: and i'm sorry i did that**

**GT: Why on earth would you be worried about what dirk thinks about you?**

**GT: You two are chums aren’t you?**

**NM: well...**

**NM: no**

**GT: What?!**

**GT: This is a development i was sorely unaware of!**

**NM: this isn't a development**

**NM: it's more like background information**

**GT: Would you care to share?**

**NM: sure**

**NM: he just doesn't seem to like me v much**

**NM: it’s just**

**NM: the way he talks to me!**

**NM: he's so rude and petty around me around me**

**NM: i don’t know how you haven’t noticed when we’re all together**

**NM: and i can't get over the way he types**

**GT: How does he type?**

**NM: I type in perfect grammar just to prove my mental superiority.**

**NM: Watch me use big words and capitalize my I's, bluh bluh.**

**NM: I made an entire sentient AI just to fuck with you.**

**GT: Dirk is has OCD when it comes to perfection.**

**GT: With you or i?**

**NM: me**

**GT: Oh my,**

**GT: I think,**

**NM: idk about you i do my best NOT to talk to hal**

**GT: I know what this is.**

**NM: what**

**GT: Essentially,**

**GT: <3<**

**NM: w**

**NM: put that spade back!**

**NM: no thsi**

**NM: this isn't**

**GT: <3< <3< <3< <3<!!!!!!!!!!!**

**NM: put those away mister!!!!!**

**NM: i am not pitch for dirk!!**

**GT: The screen has already humbly posted them for me!**

**GT: Doth thou protest?**

**GT: Even an oblivious dolt like me can see that.**

**GT: It would make sense why dirk worked so damn hard on that blasted supercomputer.**

**NM: he didnt make hal for me!**

**NM: i was exaggerating**

**NM: hes just**

**NM: he's**

**NM: hal just keeps trying to fuck w/ me!**

**NM: it's like he'll die if he doesn't**

**GT: Showcasing his qualities you despise already.**

**NM: i don't know if dirk pitted him on me or not!**

**GT: Hal is a perfect copy of dirk.**

**NM: oh, he likes to claim that**

**GT: Well,**

**GT: He was.**

**NM: but at least hal knows some decency**

**GT: He’s not so much dirk anymore i suppose.**

**NM: thank god for that, i don't think i could handle two**

**NM: plus**

**NM: if i was pitch for him**

**NM: WHICH I AM NOT**

**GT: Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm**

**NM: he wouldn't reciprocate**

**GT: Oh please dirk will take it as an insult if you didn’t at least proposition.**

**GT: I’m rolling my eyes.**

**NM: still those eyes young man**

**GT: I’m getting dizzy from how still they are!**

**NM: good!**

**NM: are you seriously encouraging this??**

**NM: i-**

**NM: oh**

**GT: Adventure.**

**NM: my god**

**GT: What?**

**NM: you**

**GT: Um.**

**NM: little basard**

**GT: Bastard ^**

**NM: you're right and i hate it**

**NM: basard is like bastard but in a joking way**

**GT: Oh! See, you can use interesting words too!**

**NM: don't**

**NM: compare me to dirk**

**GT: Erm.**

**GT: Sorry.**

**NM: no i'm sorry**

**NM: my tone is supposed to be joking there**

**GT: Oh.**

**GT: Okay!**

**GT: That makes me feel better.**

**NM: :P**

**GT: I’m anyways about me being right.**

**NM: you're what**

**GT: ‘You’re right and i hate it’**

**NM: you're anyways??**

**GT: I-**

**GT: Dammit.**

**GT: Um***^^^^^^**

**NM: hahahaha**

**NM: i think you mean you're smug**

**NM: *insert noogie here***

**GT: *insert avail here***

**GT: Of course!**

**GT: It’s not every day i can get my head around any sort of romance.**

**NM: me neither honestly**

**NM: but i'm getting that feeling you said earlier**

**NM: the fuzzy one**

**GT: Because...??**

**NM: because dirk**

**NM: and because you helped me!**

**GT: Oh!**

**GT: Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!!!**

**NM: ??**

**GT: <>!**

**NM: :0**

**NM: <>**

**GT: !!!!!!**

**GT: Romance.**

**GT: Bromance!**

**NM: bromance**

**GT: Oh- shit! I’m afraid our chat will have to end here, sam.**

**GT: There’s something going on in the upper floors! I think brobot has brought a wild animal into the house!**

**NM: oh**

**NM: good luck w/ that**

**GT: I humbly accept your offering of luck. I just hope it will help me.**

**GT: Also, i hope you don’t make me remind you to ask dirk about what i brought up. The sooner the better!**

**NM: uuuuuuUUUUUUUGH.**

**NM: fine**

**GT: Here, take your luck back.**

**GT: You’ll need it more than me.**

 

 **\-- golgothasTerror** **[GT]** **ceased pestering namelessMonster** **[NM]** **at 23:00 --**

 

 

You sigh, turning your phone screen off and setting it on the pillow next to you. It starts to buzz as soon as your hand leaves the case, but you ignore it. You know who's buzzing that is, and you don't want to talk to him. Like you said earlier, you do your best _not_ to talk to Hal. Soon the buzzing stops, and it’s replaced by a ringtone. Hal doesn’t have a voice, does he? You pick up your phone and stare at the number- or- the _lack_ of a number. You swipe their thumb across the answer button and hold the phone to your ear.

“What,” you grumble. A voice on the other end chuckles, the sound looped neatly among small fluffs of static.

“You know the McAfee app isn’t enough to keep me out of your phone, Sammy,” The voice at the other end sounds like Dirk, but the inflection is too robotic. The tones shift up and down like someone is turning a dial that clicks into place.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Of course. That’s a very interesting conversation you had with Jake.”

“You’re a creep.”

“A helpful one. I want to talk with you and figure out what you’re going to do.”

“I can figure it out myself.”

“Aaah, but who knows Dirk better than I do? I can help you navigate your feelings towards him, my demisexual friend.”

“We aren’t friends,” you spit in response. There’s a few moments of silence before Hal speaks again.

“Okay, then we aren’t friends. Then I’m your wingman.”

“That isn’t any bett-”

“I’m going to have to stop you right there. Let me ask a simple question first. Do you want to talk about this with Dirk?” Hal waits patiently for your response. You don’t speak for a solid ten seconds, letting the question bounce around in your head until it hits the corner and you have an answer.

“Yes, I do. But not over the phone.”

“I thought so. Dirk isn’t busy right now. Just come over, and he’ll be able to talk. Like Jake said, he’ll be sorely insulted if you don’t at least ask.”

“Dirk isn’t busy?”

“Well, he is, but I’m sure if you interrupt his work that will only fuel his side of this kismesitude.”

“‘His side?’ Hal, what does he think of me?”

“You’re really annoying to him. More annoying than me, even, with how you make fun of the way he talks. He knows your interest in his projects is purely superficial, that you’re an incorrigible people-pleaser just over the edge of endearing. He’s infuriated that nobody else sees this. He hates that when you laugh, your face lights up brighter than his ever could. He hates how you roll with every punch he throws.”

“I-I’m not--”

“Mhm. Just come over.” The call ends. You know the call won’t be listed in your logs and you won’t be able to call back, so you just turn off the screen and roll out of bed. You slip into a pair of slippers by your bed, pull a hoodie over your head and stuff your phone in the pocket. Glasses on, hair dishevelled, totally ready to go ask your local shaded asshole if he’ll hatedate you. Don’t forget to remind him that his ex-turned-your-moirail is encouraging you to do this. Fuck, this is a bad idea, isn’t it? You can feel your heartbeat speeding up, your hands start to shake, so your fumble to grab your glasses and turn on the screen. It turns on on its own.

**TT: Breathe.**

“Y-you-”

**TT: Complain later. Breathe now.**

You take a deep breath, holding it as long as you can before you let it flow past your lips. Hal wasn't the one you wanted to lead you through this, but whatever. You shuffle out your room and out the house, stepping into your car and turning it on. You rest your forehead against the wheel, sighing to yourself. You could go back to your bed, slither under the covers and forget this ever happened, but you know both Jake and Hal will never let that happen.

You pull away from the curb and start driving. You memorised the route to Dirk's apartments a long time ago. You aren't quite sure why. You drive in silence for thirty minutes until you get to the parking lot, finding a spot not very close to the door and rushing to the building after you turn off your car and lock it. Hal buzzes you in almost as soon as you're in view of the cameras. You shuffle your pajama-clad self into the elevator and ride it up in silence, staring at your reflection as you try to keep yourself from panicking. It'll be okay. It'll be okay.

The apartment halls are dimly lit this late at night. As you navigate to Dirk's door and knock a little too loudly on it, you keep finding yourself checking over your shoulder for someone following you. It's creepy here. Fitting for the. residence of Dirk, you decide. There's grumbling behind the door for a few moments. Dirk opens it and glares at you from behind his shades. Instead of a greeting or anything polite, he just leers at you.

“I didn't buzz you in.” You tap your glasses. Dirk sighs, obviously rolling his eyes and shaking his head. He makes a show of it. You wonder how you never noticed before. “Fine. So Hal let you in. Why’re you here?” He seems to be under the impression that Hal wants you here for some nefarious purpose. Should you let him believe that? No, he wouldn't like that. That's the point of kismessitude but... well, like Hal said, you're an incorrigible people-pleaser. Whatever that means.

“I need to talk to you,” you finally say. He just steps aside to let you in. You might as well treat this place as your own home. You take off your slippers and make a beeline to the couch. Dirk seems disgusted with you. You plop down and take out your phone. He crosses his arms, standing in front of you and glaring.

“What is it?”

“I- well.” You're scrolling through nothing, not even processing the posts on your screen. He raises a brow.

“I have prior reservations. You're wasting my time.”

“Oh, just say you're busy,” you mumble under your breath.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

“Spit it out already. You may have time to sit down and put your feet up, but some of us have shit to get to.”

“I- um. I don't know how to ask something like this.”

“Okay.” Does he not care? Is he mad you're distracting him? There's no way he doesn't care.

“I.. came to some conclusions tonight.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I'm.. pitch.”

“Mhm?” You're starting to get really annoyed. Dirk's shifting on his feet, shades facing down the hallway, but you can still feel his judging stare. Does he really think you're annoying? Does he really think you pretend to be interested in other people's’ lives? You shake your head, having to take a moment before you start panicking again.

“Pitch for you. You're so- you're so frustrating! And I know you're doing it on purpose, I know you use all that flowery language just to fuck with me. The way you type is so fucking pretentious! But I can't stop worrying over every little thing you do!”

His response is simple, to the point, and infuriating. “I see.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Mhm. Can I get back to work now?”

You give him your best annoyed glower. “No. I want to know what you think of me. I'll let you leave when you tell me.”

“It's my house.”

“And they're my feelings.”

“Who fucking cares about your feelings? Wounds to your ego can only benefit you. Maybe then you'll stop acting with that frivolous sense of self-worth.”

“Maybe if you stopped to think about how you treated others, you'd realize that talking like a thesaurus doesn't make people like you!”

“Okay.”

“Tell me what you think.”

“I'm not going to feed your gluttonous need to know what everyone thinks of you.”

“I think it's completely reasonable given the situation.”

“...” He sighs, holding his forehead for a moment. “You claim to have an interest in literature, yet most of your vocabulary is made up of internet slang, and you type as if you don't have time to finish your words. What the hell is W and a slash supposed to mean-?”

“It means ‘with,’ you moron.”

“So creative. Anyway, you constantly beg to know what people think of you, and then get insulted when the answer isn't what you want. You act like, when someone acts like I do, that they're trying to hide something and you're actually better than them because you 'aren't compensating for anything.’

“I know you are,” he steps closer to you, hands in his pockets, “I know you're trying to make everyone like you so you can cruise through life. I know you need someone to put you in your place.”

You shift in your seat, turning off your phone screen and refusing to look at Dirk. The way he's talking makes your heart race, but it doesn't feel like a panic attack this time. You don't know how to place it, but the way he's glaring at you is more predatory than hateful. He's drinking in your every reaction. He's not even bothering to pretend to stare down the hall to his room.

“I-Is that a rejection?”

“What does it sound like to you?” This shuts you up. He's such a hostile questionee. Answering a question with a question when you just want clarity is such a dick move, you think.

“...It sounds like you actually hate me, and you don't want me around.” You start clenching your hands in your lap, then you start worrying that he'll think you're trying to make him feel bad, so you set them back down by your thighs. “So I'll- so I'll leave, I'll leave you alone, and you don't have to think about how annoying I am.” You start getting up, and you aren't sure if your actions are to draw annoyance out of him or you're really reacting to the panic in your veins. He sets a firm hand on your shoulder and pushes you back down to sitting. He isn't glaring any more.

“Hal told me you have panic disorder. Explain it to me.”

“It's.. um... it's...” You hold your head, trying to make yourself calm down. “It's when I get nervous, I'm more scared of the symptoms of panic attacks than.. than the thing... it's terrifying, I ca--” He shushes you.

“Am I making you panic?”

“I- I, um, it's...” You clench and unclench your hands until you feel a little calmer. Both of his hands are on your shoulders. “It's the idea of you actually hating me. I-I'm not pretending to care, I promise, I just, I'm just terrified of people hating me...”

“There are other things I think,” he assures you. “The way you and your friends bounce things off of each other, I'm frustrated I can never have that. How you give advice without sounding condescending makes me so strangely confused. I've tried and failed to meet your standards as a good friend, and yet you still feel so strongly about me, I know I'll probably never understand you. That thought infuriates me. I want to understand you.”

The way he's talking starts calming you down. His voice is soft and soothing, it doesn't fit him at all. How can he sound so positive when you've never seen him smile?

“I-I-I- don't get it--”

“There are similar things for me, right? Tell me about them.”

“...I know you aren't compensating for anything. I- I know you're very smart and you're a hard worker, more determined than I'll ever be. And you're so fucking- you're hot, conventionally attractive, I don't fucking know how to get it across to you how fucking _good_ you look to me, it's impossible for me to stop thinking about you when you look like _that._ ” You gesture wildly and speak quickly as if that will help communicate your point. You're tired, it's midnight by now and it feels like you haven't gotten anywhere. Dirk seems satisfied, though, a hint of a smirk on his face. You want to smack it off of him.

“I understand. More than you think I do. We're both jealous of what the other has.” He hasn't sat down. He's still above you, hands on your shoulders, staring you down with a dangerous glint in his shades. “I always thought you were cute, but you know, when you're all...” He slides a hand down your arm, as if he's feeling every inch of it for something he can pinpoint and put you down for. You're suddenly aware that you came into his house wearing pajamas and slippers, as if he wouldn't use that as ammunition. “When you're all bedraggled like this, it's strangely cuter.” You can take a wild guess at what that word means, and suddenly you feel like he was pausing to flip through the thesaurus in his head just to irk you. His hand slides back up your arm, into your hair.

“Your hair is greasy.”

“Thanks Watson, I'll be sure to add that to the evidence pile. We all didn't have enough proof that I'm a walking, talking human disaster.”

He doesn't have anything to say. His brows just furrow a little more, and you feel quite proud of yourself. He freezes, and so do you, because you both see the same thing on your respective glasses.

**TT: Now, kiss.**

You frown at your glasses. Dirk seems intrigued. He watches you for a moment, and when you give no indication you're paying attention, he snaps. He pulls you up by your shoulders, hands sliding down your arms again until he's holding your waist. He hesitates, silently asking if this is okay. You nod, and he pulls you in.

You'd think it'd be a gentle kiss based on how he was treating you, but you're asking too much from him. He's forceful and rough, parting your lips with his and all but claiming your mouth. You aren't sure why he pulled you to your feet when he's pushing you back against the couch again. His movements are precise, practiced, as if he's thought about this many times. Maybe he wanted to shut you up while you were talking about something stupid. The thought sends crackles through your body. You grab at his hips and he _growls,_ oh he didn't like that. You squeeze your hands, silently telling him to do something about it. He bites your lip and you squeak in surprise, your hands slipping up to Dirk's waist instead, pushing his shirt up.

He slips down, peppering little kisses along your cheek until he reaches your jaw and he starts nibbling. He nips at the sweet area between your jaw and neck, right under your ear. That draws a noise from you that he drinks right up, nipping a little more to get another noise. He starts marking your entire neck with bites, kissing and nibbling along the side to milk out your reactions. His bites are harder than anyone else's, his kisses gentler as some kind of apology. It's fucking with your head.

You stuff your hands under his shirt, dig your nails in over his shoulder blades and drag them down his back, letting your hands rest over his waist when you're done. He groans under his breath, only this time it’s choked down and clearly pleased. He tries to do the same to you, but he can't get his fingers under your binder. Score one for dysphoria. He moves from your neck, back to kissing you, and now you're just as aggressive. You're both trying to claim what isn't yours. It's only when he's nipping at your lip, straddling your legs, holding your hips down and grinding-

**TT: Now, stop.**

-that Hal speaks up and you both pull away, panting quietly as you come down from your small high. Dirk is staring you down, and you can't bear to look at his face for too long. Your adrenaline is already dying down and you don't know what you'll do if it pumps you back up. You reach a hand up to your neck, shivering as you feel over the slight indents he left there. You might need to stay inside for a while. You jump when he speaks, which he seems amused by.

“So? What now?”

“I...” You're breathless, you don't know what to say. “I don't know...” Dirk slides his right hand back up into your hair.

“You should stay here. It's late. Could be dangerous.”

“Not if you bring me home.”

“You and I both know I'm not going to do that.” You sigh, pulling his hand away from your head.

“Right, your project?”

“Correct. You can sleep out here. This couch has a pull-out bed.”

“God, you talk like a robot.”

**TT: He talks like a douchebag. No correlation.**

You roll your eyes at Hal. “Fine, okay, I'll take you up on that, but I'm a really light sleeper. If you're noisy I'll be grumpy in the morning.”

“Got it.” It doesn't seem like he gets it. He gets off your lap (it was getting a little awkward with him sitting there) and walks down the hall to his room without a second thought. Not a goodnight, not a single formality. You just shake your head and get up to pull the cushions off the couch. You never got how these things worked, so you have a little trouble unfolding the bed, and you know for a fact you won't be able to fold it back without help. There's a folded blanket next to the couch, so you use that and a throw pillow to make yourself comfortable. Who the hell needs sheets?

Sitting among the small comfort nest you've made, you start pulling off your hoodie and pajama shirt. You hook your fingers under the hem of your binder and pull it over your head, setting it on the arm of the couch and quickly putting your pajama shirt back on before you get too uncomfortable. You slide under the covers, leaving your hoodie beside you. The red text in your vision reminds you that you still have your glasses on.

**TT: You need to get in the shower before Dirk. He'll waste all the hot water. And your hair is basically a fire hazard at this point.**

You take off your glasses and set them on the arm of the couch, closing your eyes and nuzzling into the pillow. The deep-set exhaustion in your body finally takes over and lulls you into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> yeet


End file.
